The Lamb and The Knife
by spoondance
Summary: New York City, a single apartment, and two lovers who share a lust for blood. Glimpses into the lives of Santana and Rachel as they live theirs and take others'. Serial Killer!Pezberry. Enjoy!
1. The Morning After

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee. But wouldn't it be fun if I did?_

_**A/N:** Alright, here we go. For now, these will be just little snippets into their lives together and their shared love of 'damning themselves' as Santana likes to say. I don't have any major plot line in mind for this yet, though there are some possibilities... cop!Finn anyone? Anywho, this was inspired by the line 'Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight' (though basically focusing on turning to gold in the sunlight. XD) from 'Rabbit Heart' by Florence and the Machine. Thanks to purrpickle for giving me this perfect song for serial killer!pezberry theme song! 3_

_**WARNING:** Killing and blood and gore and smut and etc. More in future chapters than in this one, but you have been warned. Do not read if you don't like or if this could be triggering!_

**The Morning After**

She loved it, the morning after. There was just something about it... something she couldn't really explain. A content energy hummed through her, everything seemed brighter-lusher, and she couldn't help the grin that took hold of her.

Rolling over onto her back, Santana stretched a bit, then sunk back into the mattress. The morning light filled the room, simply adding to the warmth and overall elegance of the moment. Turning her head to her right, she took in the sight of her sleeping girlfriend. She was on her stomach, face turned away from Santana's gaze, hair tousled and blankets twisted. She was an adorable mess.

And _damn_ was her girl good last night. She'd set everything up with her usual care to detail, but also an indefinable excitement. Everything had been perfect, exhilarating, satisfying. Rachel was amazing. And she _loved_ seeing her in red... Replaced now with cotton white.

Reaching out, she trailed her fingers over the tank top, over the bare skin of her lower back, and around the waistband of her underwear. Why were they even dressed? They normally slept naked, it just became routine.

She sighed. Rachel's parents, that's why she was restrained by a grey T-shirt and black boy shorts. And why she lacked the proper amount of bare skin to wake up to. They were flying in for a visit today, and Rachel had insisted they sleep clothed. Even though they weren't due to be there until the afternoon, Rachel and herself were going to pick them up at the airport, and Rachel had triple-checked their flight to make sure they hadn't switched to surprise their daughter a day early(_they_ would have been the one's to be surprised...). Not to mention that Santana was pretty sure the girl's fathers were well aware of said girl's age and her relationship status. She doubted they'd just barge into their apartment let alone their room. But Rachel had insisted so whatever. Rachel still lay next to her and last night had been fantastic, so she didn't mind.

Sighing, happily this time, she rolled toward the slumbering girl. Burying her face into a soft shoulder blade and pressing the rest of her body as close as possible, practically laying half on top of the girl, Santana smiled.

As the sunlight warmed her, she realized what it was about mornings like this. These mornings were pure and precious. A sense of eminence and power, a greatness spread through her. Fully rested and still feeling the buzz of the night before. Feeling nothing could be greater, nothing could surpass what was her life and her actions, triumphs. The perfect description.

She was turned to gold.

_**A/N:** Yeah, this is the morning after a killing, not sex... well that too. X] I may write out what happened the night before but may simply move on. Who knows. _

_Hope you enoyed this!_


	2. We're Licking Skin To Wipe Us Clean

_**A/N:** So sorry this took so long! Had some family issues and I hate my schedule. I'm trying to set aside time to write for my fics, so hopefully the next update won't be forever from now... I may occasionally take lyrics from songs for titles for inspiration. - The title of this chapter is from "She's My Ride Home" by Blue October._

_So here's what happened the night before..._

**WARNING:** _Killing and blood and gore and smut and etc. Do not read if you don't like or if this could be triggering!_

**We're Licking Skin To Wipe Us Clean **

Cool darkness settled over the city, casting shadows into new depths and covering the denizens in a blanket of serenity. A sort of serenity that trembled with restrained chaos. Two of chaos's instigators crept along shadows waiting to bait their prey...

A shrill cry slashed at the night and echoed through an alley, out to the nearly deserted sidewalk. The sound igniting flames of action to life.

"Did you hear that!" a voice frantic and edging on terror addressed a passerby.

The man shrugged her off, unknowingly sealing his fate. Gripping his arm and yanking him back around to face her, she kept her features perfectly trained on 'fear'. "That scream, from the alley, didn't you hear it?"

"Fuck off, woman. I didn't hear a thing." He was large in a bulky, broad way. Slightly taller than the girl stood before him, bald, and muscular. Easy prey to the skilled.

Santana hid a smirk as she tugged at him once again. "No! Please! Someone could be hurt!"

The prey scowled at her and shook her hands off him. "Then go yourself, I'm busy."

Feeling a mix of anger and excitement churn in her gut, she pushed forward and blocked his passage.

"What the fuck, lady! Get out of-" his growl cut off as the shadows leapt out from the alley and clung about his neck, pressing a steely point into his back. He stumbled back, further into the shadows and closer to his end.

A thrill shot through Santana as she watched her girlfriend deftly lead their prey backwards. Knife dug threateningly into flesh and left arm squeezing over a thick neck, the small brunette looked anything _but_ weak. She nearly skipped along following the two down the alley.

"How very heroic of you, leaving a damsel in distress to fend for herself. Instructing another young woman to traverse a dreadfully dark alley to be the rescuer to said damsel – risking her own non-damsel status in the process." The diva's words were heavy and chastising, edged with a heat only Santana could detect.

"W-what?" the man fumbled, trying to grasp onto the arm at his throat but failing to escape from the tight hold and off-putting angle.

Santana grinned and stepped forward. "Basically, you're a dick." She flicked the collar of his jacket with a bored sigh. "And we don't like dicks." Her expression turned eerily mirthful, eyes glinting as she added, "Well, we just don't like a lot of people. Today 'dicks' were at the top of the list though." Pressing a sharp finger into his sternum, her voice danced. "Your lucky day, douche bag."

Fear radiated from the man and the two brunettes fed off it. It was exhilarating and intoxicating, they could already feel the effects creeping across their skin and rattling their spines. A power like no other. Watching their prey trembling and eyes wide and frantic, his large stature positively useless as he bent at their mercy. Soft whimpers choking out past constricted throat; sweat beading up at his temples, neck, back, hands. He was weak. He was nothing compared to them.

"Please," he muttered helplessly, unknowingly fueling their bloodlust.

Their eyes connected over the quivering mess of a man, and a shared smirk brought further excitement. "You frightened, _little man_?" Rachel sneered, knife piercing skin. A frantic cry and nod. "You want to be let go?" Tears were streaming down his face as he begged. "Alright." And with that, the small brunette jerked her wrist forward plunging the cool steal up to it's hilt into the mans back. His scream was muffled by Santana gripping his throat where Rachel had released him. Rachel's hand was soaked in blood, the warm liquid gushing out around her fist and setting her skin ablaze. She tugged up on the blade and jabbed, aiming to puncture a lung. The thrill of life seeping out into her hands revving her up and a frantic desire took hold as it always did. Take life, _have_ life, live. "Go on, you're free, boy." It was a whispered command, power demanding he let go of his grip on life.

Santana's hold on the sagging prey tightened as the power flowed over her, alighting all nerves in her body, craving to be used. She reached around to clasp Rachel's hand, letting blood run over her skin and intensify the feeling. Needing more, she switched hands – one gripping throat and the other the blood-drenched hand of her girlfriend. Her girl was sexy but this, when she was taking something so easily that ought to be difficult, this was beyond arousing. It never got old. No, she didn't need this to get wild, _god_ no, but it was to them as a vacation or new sex toy was to other couples - a bit of spice, a playful nudge. Though more powerful and, quite honestly, intoxicating. And as much as she loved doing the taking, she also loved watching Rachel and she would always enjoy seeing the eyes dull. Their eyes always dimmed and it was like she sapped up the light and she was positive the light shone directly from her eyes. Glowing. Rachel and herself _glowed_ after, like fucking _stars_.

Once she caught Rachel's eyes again, saw the gleam and the unadulterated _pleasure_, she growled and let go of the fading prey. She took hold of the girl's hair and tugged her back, Rachel grinning and unsheathing her dagger from flesh. Santana's previous grip to his throat was strong enough to prevent a sound to escape him, no more than a gurgle was heard as he began to drown in his own blood. Rachel's back hit the rough alley wall as the man drooped to his knees and slumped over into his own blood, forgotten in their heated lip-lock and sharing of fire. Bodies aflame and breathing ragged, Santana bit Rachel's lip and let loose another growl. "You're so fucking hot," she panted, hands slipping beneath shirt to drag up and roughly grope her girlfriend's heaving chest. Rachel, looking smug and all-powerful, rolled her hips into Santana's and forcefully gripped dark hair, knife falling to the ground with a clatter.

Santana could feel the cooling blood of their latest target against her scalp and clinging to her hair. A hiss left her as Rachel rolled her hips again. Damn she loved this. They became frenzied animals almost every time and _fuck_ was it good. A hand, red smearing, cupped her cheek. "Fuck me, Santana. There is no rational reason for you to take so _goddamn long._" And Santana moaned. Her hands dragged down the quaking body to dance under short skirt. She loved how Rachel preferred wearing a skirt on these outings, Rachel's way of openly stating they'd be fucking at anytime in the night that she wished. It got her blood pumping just about as much as the actual plan for finding prey.

Latching her lips and teeth to Rachel's neck, she teasingly trialed her fingers up the girl's inner thigh. Rachel's gasp brought a chuckle from her and she reached up to take earlobe between teeth and tug, hand ascending. "Santana," an inhale more than an actual word. Touch teasing and coming closer... "Santana!" Hans gripped her wrist and Santana frowned, pulling back to look a the small girl in frustration. "Hands," was her only answer and she looked down. Blood coated her fingers and she growled, head whipping tot he side to glare at the fading man as if this were entirely his fault. They had a rule, no blood of their prey was to touch them intimately – no tainting. The only _essence_ to be in either of them was to be their own or their lover's.

There was no way Santana was going to wait until they got home, and so she promptly feel to her knees, bloody hands circling firm thighs and pulling them further apart. Without a word, she lunged forward with lips quickly closing around slick flesh and suckling. Rachel groaned above her, grip tightening in hair and forcing her closer. And maybe she resented not being able to use her hands and watch those fucking gorgeous eyes as the girl fell apart, but she adored her taste and scent too much to really care. Not that she wouldn't demand to "right the injustice" of this round later.

Tongue slipped through folds, slow and hard at first as she gathered as much of Rachel's taste in her mouth as she could. Soon though, strokes turned quicker and flickered up to toy with the sensitive nub she knew oh so well. Light licks and heated breath goaded the quivering brunette to rock her hips forward, _demanding_. Santana smirked. She loved to tease but she couldn't take her time just yet, both due to their current location and the fact that her body demand quick, frantic, _rough_ sex. Nails digging into skin, she spread tanned legs even further taking the briefest moment to admire red, swollen flesh before diving back in and sucking furiously on clit.

Rachel was writhing against her and the wall, hands flying between grasping at her girlfriend's head, her own hair or breasts, and the rough wall keeping her upright. Santana was drinking it all up, quite literally, and her gaze burned a path up rolling flesh to watch as tongue swiftly dipped down and plunged into heated core. Rachel let out a high-pitched keen and arched her back, chest surging into cool air. Her pace was fast and strong as Rachel rocked into her with abandon. Hands crashed into the back of her head and tugged her in closer in a desperate need and Santana knew she was close, could feel the fluttering of walls about her tongue and could see the tightening of stomach muscles. A few more strokes to bring her to the very tip and Santana moved to reattach mouth to clit, sucking harshly. A sharp drag of teeth and a cry echoed through the alley – hips rolling and thrusting, muscles trembling in ecstasy. Santana smirked and happily accepted her lover's release.

A bite to an inner thigh and Santana was rising back to her full height, ignoring the pain in her knees as she took in the warmed glow of her girl, eyes still shining with unreal power. Hooking a finger in the hem of Rachel's shirt, she slowly tugged it back down over exposed skin and leaned down to press a quick and hungry kiss to parted lips. "Home." It was a command and Santana was all to happy to oblige, pulling back and picking up the girl's dagger; Rachel resting a moment before kicking off the wall and ducking around a dumpster to grab two, full body length coats. She had laughed the first time Rachel had brought them out so long ago, they seemed so... cliché for freakin' killers to be wearing, but she knew they were helpful in covering their blood-soaked bodies and they rushed home through the shadows. Donning the coats, Santana gave the body a quick kick to make sure he was gone and, satisfied, rushed to wrap her arms around her girlfriend and nip at her ear eagerly as they shuffled to the mouth of the alleyway. Rachel giggled and shoved her away, slipping around the corner.

They walked home huddled close and staying out of light as much as possible – no one would take a second glance either way but figured it'd better be safe than sorry. Stolen kisses and gropes, laughs and nudges filled their journey, and by time they were stumbling through the door to their apartment they barely had time to shove the coats in the back of the entryway closet before Rachel's legs were wrapped about Santana's waist and being carried off to their bathroom. Clothes littered the tile floor, fumbled kisses landed on skin, and steam began to fill the room as they finally stepped under the heated stream of water. Both quick to cleanse their hands first.

The fire still raged on in them and both strove to engulf the other. Rachel suddenly spinning Santana and pinning her to the wall, hands above head, settled who was to claim dominance and she offered a smirk to rival Santana's. "You're _mine_," she growled. "Then fucking _take_ m-" biting words scattered in favor of a gasp as Rachel thrust two fingers into her. "Finally," Santana managed through ragged breaths. "Shut up, Santana." Rachel bit her lip, _hard_. And Santana was bucking into all that was Rachel; craving the power she held, the fire in her, the _feel_ of her. Buzzing, vibrating, on the brink of shattering – the feel that always followed a round of 'damning themselves'. And fuck, damnation was _delicious_.

Red ran down their bodies, water stripping them of their sins. But Santana wasn't watching the contrast of color against white tile, she was watching Rachel's flashing eyes and how this goddess was watching _her_ in return. Fingers thrust ruthlessly into her, palm slapping against sensitive flesh and engorged clit. She was panting as the heat and pleasure built and spread through her body, occasionally _holding_ her breath as she seemed all too focused on the sensations to bother with oxygen. Then Rachel curled her fingers and her head flew back, muscles seizing up as they desperately awaited her impending climax. Continued curls on each outward stroke and Santana was shuddering, bliss erupting and flooding her with a force only Rachel and their shared hunger could bring. Rachel's fire bursting through and to her as she succumbed, their joined flames scorching through her veins.

Rachel held her up, letting go of her wrists to take hold of hips and leaned into her body. Kisses fluttered over her neck and collarbone as mind slowly rose from the ashes. "I love you," she huffed, words and tone sincere and solid; used time and time again as stating a well-known fact. Rachel's sweet smile came into view and heart resurfaced close behind mind – she smiled in return.

"I love you too."

_**A/N: **I did _not_ know how to end this chapter so I hope this works! Next chapter may include Finn, Kum, or a Pezberry anniversary. I have ideas for all, just have to see which I start writing. Again, sorry for the insane wait!_


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